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Chapter 81

           Andnowmoreearnestlythaneverdidhisriderurgehimon;forthepursued,nolongerkeepingtothepath,washeadingdirectforthethicket.Thechasemightthereterminate,withoutthechasedanimalbeingeitherkilledorcaptured.

           HithertoCalhounhadonlybeenthinkingofatrialofspeed.Hehadnotanticipatedsuchanending,aswasnowbothpossibleandprobable;andwithamorerecklessresolve,heoncemoreraisedhisriflefortheshot.

           Bythistimebothwerecloseintothebushes—theHeadlessHorsemanalreadyhalf-screenedbytheleafybranchesthatsweptswishingalonghissides.Onlythehipsofhishorsecouldbeaimedat;anduponthesewasthegunlevelled.

           Thesulphureoussmokespurtedforthfromitsmuzzle;thecrackwasheardsimultaneously;and,asifcausedbythedischarge,adarkobjectcamewhirlingthroughthecloud,andfellwithadull"thud"upontheturf.

           Withaboundandaroll—thatbroughtitamongthefeetofCalhoun’shorse—itbecamestationary.

           Stationary,butnotstill.Itcontinuedtooscillatefromsidetoside,likeatopbeforeceasingtospin.

           Thegreysteedsnorted,andrearedback.Hisriderutteredacryofintensifiedalarm.

           Andnowonder.IfreadinShakespeareanlore,hemighthaveappropriatelyrepeatedthewords"Shakenotthosegorylocks":for,onthegroundbeneath,wastheheadofaman—stillstickinginitshat—whosestifforbicularbrimhindereditfromstayingstill.

           ThefacewastowardCalhoun—upturnedatjustsuchanangleastobringitfullbeforehim

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